Paradox
by sweetlostsoul
Summary: Hermione and Severus reveal a few segments of their lives during their later years when the two are unhappy and married. Vague plot! M for adult content. Reviews appreciated of course.
1. Chapter 1

**Paradox**

A.N. I do not own Harry Potter. I can only claim this plot as my own.

Dear Readers! Here you will find a little snippet of a complicated relationship between Severus Snape and Hermione Granger. Hermione is assumed to be in her thirties and married to Severus under unforeseen circumstances. The focus is on their sexual activities, but with a little depth. Angst is present and I apologize for the vagueness in the storyline. I welcome criticism, comments and feedback. Should you be interested in a continuation, I will strive to provide. Happy reading.

* * *

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to find her inner numbness. The same thing, the same method; disconnection and disinterest. Inhaling sharply, she exhaled slowly and allowed her body to relax before taking on the assault. It had been months already and she did not wish to strain their marriage over something as trivial as this.

Meanwhile, Snape stood looking down at the witch lying stiffly on the bed. He could not judge her, pity her or hate her. This misery was temporary for her. He did not want to be here like this any more than she did. But he could not understand why her misery was eating at him.

"Shall I begin?"

He always asked. He had to be sure she was willing, accepting and conscious of her actions. She sighed and opened her cold brown eyes.

"Just do it."

Lifting her legs to either side of his waist, he complied.

"So be it."

* * *

Snape sat on the edge of the bed and groaned into his hand as he noted the time. Once again he had failed to rest before having to start his day. Glancing back at the female figure facing away from him, he wondered. Which of them was the victim? Which of the two was hurting the most? Who had lost the most in all this? Pushing back the oily salt and pepper strands from his face, he stood and resumed the cycle. The day would go on, and he would meet with her again. He always did.

Hermione wished she could be him instead of herself. She wished she could leave. She wondered how she could let herself free; from the agony, the betrayal, the disgust. Free of the hope, trust and contentment. Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling of their bedroom. She had to get ready soon. The day would go on, and she would meet with him again. She always did.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Hermione trembled as she questioned her husband who was holding her legs above his shoulder with his face leaning into her thigh. He avoided her stare but dropped one leg down to his waist, shortly followed by the other. Things had been the same ever since the first time but he suddenly changed things. This had woken Hermione from the slumber of her mind and made her realize that he was trying to please her. She couldn't shake off the trembling now and her senses were hyper aware of the man. He tried to revert to their accepted method, but Hermione was tense and she tried to pull away. Finally he looked at her, his expression questioning. She couldn't let it go, the idea that he wanted her to feel something and that he would be the cause of it.

"What was that? Why d-did you-"

He quickly interrupted her.

"It was a mistake."

Hermione sat up. Pushing down her nightgown, she tried to pull herself together. He was right, it was a mistake. All of it.

* * *

Hermione stirred the potion before continuing the chopping of the ingredients. Potion making was one of the few things that the couple enjoyed. Severus was measuring a dark liquid and glanced at Hermione to make sure she was following the instructions correctly. Satisfied, he resumed his attention back to the liquid. The room hummed with contentment and they worked well together. While the two could not agree on most things in their lives, they could not deny that this one pastime was their sanctuary. They had been working together for most of the day and Hermione knew that this little haven had to be left behind soon. She finished her last task, knowing that her husband had already finished and was waiting for her.

She placed the last ingredient into the cauldron and made sure not to stir. She swallowed hard as the sudden misery grew within her and stood holding the edge of the table. He was watching her, he was behind her and she had to go to him. His voice chilled her when she processed its meaning.

"It doesn't have to be this way."

Hermione turned around and stared at him as he continued to speak.

"I have nothing to prove, you have no expectation. We have lost everything we possibly could."

The witch began to step closer until she was standing right in front of him. He never tore his eyes from her when he spoke.

"Let's just try. No one has to know."

She knew he wanted to touch her. Not physically, but her being, her core. He wanted to connect. Desperately. But he knew she didn't want to lose herself in all this. He had accepted, reluctantly, months ago. So why was it that he was doing this when she was having a moment of weakness?

His lips parted with the intention of continuing but he changed his mind and simply waited. Hermione shook her head from side to side as words escaped them both. In the end, they left the laboratory and resumed the cycle of their life.

* * *

Hermione knew she shouldn't have reacted to his cunning trap. He had set her up and she had played right into his hand. And now he had a wand to her throat while she had hers to his chest. His nose was bleeding from the impact of her fury and his scowl displayed his own anger. Where they bound to kill each other after only one year of partnership?

"I don't want you to do anything. You don't affect me, you don't mean anything. I don't want to hear another word-"

"Why do you stubbornly push me away? This fighting is useless. Pointless."

He wiped his nose but his wand did not waver.

"Get it through your thick skull, witch. Your body, your association, and your demands are worthless. I will have you, because you will want me to."

Hermione pushed the tip of her wand into his chest wondering why he was being so persistent. He could disarm her, bind her, curse her, anything. Instead he held her gaze as she fought him off. She was not helpless, she was raw with fear. How long before this madness made sense? How long before she caved and lost everything she thought to be true and real?

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?"

He was staring up at her from his seated position, while she stood in front of him in silence. Merlin, she wished he wouldn't question her every move. Stepping closer, she passed her hands through his greasy locks while his frown deepened and yet his frame remained solid. He wasn't going to push her away, they both should have known that. Building up her confidence, the witch yanked his head back with a handful of his silver streaked hair. His grimace deepened and he reached for her hips in order to grip her tightly. Her heart began to beat wildly as she slowly saddled him and leaned into him, grazing her teeth against his white neck. His soft, somewhat surprised groan sent all sorts of sensations through her. Sliding her teeth up his pulsing throat, Hermione reached his earlobe and tugged at it lightly. She felt him shift and cause their cores to grind against one another. Merlin. She let go of the skin between her teeth and exhaled hotly on his neck as she rolled her hip in response. This earned her another moan, weakening her hold on his hair. He yanked his hair free and pulled her closer to him with a firm tug. He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead on hers as his mouth parted.

"Minx."

Hermione closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck before crushing her lips to his thin ones. It was her turn to release sounds of pleasure as she panted against his mouth. Grinding their clothed and hot bodies against one another, Hermione felt her body begin to tremble in anticipation. Holding him weakly, she opened her eyes to the ceiling, allowing him to ravage her sensitive neck. It felt good. Too good. And he was enjoying her enjoyment since his body was reacting to hers so quickly and strongly. Had she not known any better, she would think that this was the first time they were passionately taking what they needed from each other.

"I'm… ready."

Severus stopped his tender kisses and caught her eye. She was flushed and he had small beads of perspiration at his temple. It was the first time she voiced her need of him and his first response was the quick darkening of his eyes. Shifting his body, Hermione gasped but their gaze remained focused. He had her.

"Good."

* * *

Severus groaned when his wife panted his name. Merlin, it was overwhelming. He never thought that she would accept him, accept their circumstances. He never thought he would feel this much, so much. She was greedy, he was eager to please. The knot in his belly tightened as he finally connected their bodies. As he slid inside her, she let free her voice and he melted into her. She was incredible and he was trying to control himself. Her writhing and gasping filled him with fear. Was this what he had wanted all along? To make a difference, to be alive? How could she evoke these sensations after two years of torture?

Hermione moaned while she fruitlessly tried to silence the overwhelming sensations. She was uncontrollable. His touch was burning her skin and his uncertainty in her needs made her restless. His familiar body was different to her this time; powerful and balanced. When their naked skin was all they had, Hermione freely touched the rippling movement of his torso. When he finally took her, she wanted to cry. Since their union, she believed she had denied him but she knew she had starved herself instead. She was overflowing with years of feeling.

"Sweet, Hermione."

She could barely hear his deep whispers as he kissed her temple and brushed the loose curls plastered on her forehead. She reached for his back and held him close, chocking back a sob. She hated him for causing this. She hated herself for giving in. She wondered how different this was; he could make her feel like this. He knew she was hurting and wiped her tears while searching her eyes. She was raw. She was open.

* * *

Hermione was the first to awake. She stretched her limbs and felt relief as well as ache. He was lying with his back to her, allowing her gaze to focus on him while her mind awoke. His pale back had crossing scars; some thin, some deep. His hair was oily, especially by his nape, as a reminder of the physical strain he went through because of her. This caused Hermione's chest to tingle at the thought so she placed her focus on something else. His breathing was steady and deep; comforting. She stared at him and found herself reaching out to touch the trails on his back; the marks that held the memory of pain. Before she had a chance to feel his warm skin at the tips of her fingers, she noticed his breathing had paused. Hermione stopped her hand and kept it hovering over his shoulder blade, contemplating whether or not she should acknowledge his sudden awareness of her. No. She pulled her hand back and placed it on the pillow. She closed her eyes and waited for his breathing to resume.

* * *

Hermione closed her eyes as the chill ran its course through her body. His breath was released by her ear as he stood behind her, his chest pressed against her back, her hands on his forearms, her head leaning against his frame. Merlin, she didn't realise that she had lead his arms down onto her until his hands rested on her abdomen. He inched closer, causing her to take a step too close to the wall. He tightened his hold on her waist as she held onto the wall for balance, her palms flat against the smooth cool structure.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione."

Her mouth went dry as he whispered her name, almost as if to himself before grinding lightly against her backside. Even if she wanted to say something, she couldn't at this point. Instead she reached for his arm and brought it to her breast.

"Keep me up. I want to see the sunrise."

She felt his excitement vibrate throughout his body. It was easy to give in once in a while just to get this kind of a reaction. He turned her around and Hermione almost instinctively allowed him to raise her against the wall in order to wrap her legs around his waist. Pushing her wrists against the cool wall above her head, Severus kissed her gently, tenderly. She felt his manhood and his heat intensely but she craved the intimacy. He knew it and he made sure she realized that he could fulfill her needs. Yes, it was almost perfect.

* * *

Severus should have known she would not be tamed. She fooled him and had her way with him, deluding him. Three years was all it took for two opposites to unite, break, clash and repeat until there was no more. The cycle had come to an end for him. Had he honestly wanted to love his wife and be loved in return? Had he truly changed enough to accept her as an equal, a partner, an appealing possibility? He did not know. Now, his view of her was shielded by the Mediwitch tending to him; she shouldn't bother because it was too late, he thought. The Gryffindor had prevailed.

She knew what he was thinking lying in the bed on the verge of death; he had won. He had confused her, molded a new reality for her and achieved his goal. This man, wizard, criminal, professor, spy and husband had succeeded in destroying her. Everything about the two was disagreeable. But he got to her. He spent years working her and she let him. And now he was leaving her. The bastard had everything planned.

"Dear, I'm afraid there is nothing more we can do. I'll give the two of you your privacy."

The witch hesitantly left the two alone and Hermione stared down at her feet. She didn't understand why but tears blurred her vision as his voice croaked.

"I guess we were both fools."

Crossing her arms across her chest, she exhaled sharply and sat on the bed. Reaching for his pale cheek, she brushed her palm across the dark stubble.

"I guess. But we were doomed to begin with."

He chuckled at that, reaching for her hand and pressing it harder onto his face, hurting himself along with her.

"I know. Sweet, Hermione. I know."

* * *

Amy,

SWeeT_LoST_SouL


	2. Chapter 2

Paradox

A.N. I do not own Harry Potter. I can only claim this plot as my own.

Dear Readers! Here's a tidbit of Hermione's thoughts. Vague plot once again but fun to write.

* * *

Hermione remembered how cold he was on the day of their wedding. One would have assumed she had forced it onto him and not the other way around. She had been upset for weeks but she was too proud to let it show; he did not need to belittle her any more than necessary. It had not been much of a ceremony even though the few who attended were relieved of their union. Harry had tried to make her see the upside, but she was unrelenting. She had signed her soul over to the devil. The newlyweds had not even stayed for the celebration and food, choosing instead to rush away. They had Apparated to Snape's dwelling and managed to move her things in within the day. For weeks after that, they had barely acknowledged one another's existence but did pick up on each other's habits. He drank in the evenings when his potion research was fruitless while she drank coffee like a daily ritual. He refused to shower everyday while Hermione enjoyed a bath almost on a daily basis. He tended to fall asleep on the living room couch while she had yet to have a good night's sleep in their bedroom. Eventually, things became predictable, and even the sex was scheduled. It was horrid, but it had to be done since neither could be unfaithful.

Their fights were what animated them the most. She couldn't count how many time they had dueled in the living room over ridiculous things. She remembered how she would get physical and how he bound her with spells. He had been just as aggressive with spells, hurting her on occasion but she knew he chose not to cause her serious harm. She on the other hand never held back. She was lucky he was skilled in protecting himself, because she was vicious in her attempts. She had come close a few times, causing guilt to alleviate her anger. It was their life.

The one time she had broken his nose, she had almost apologized. He hated her and in that moment she hated herself too. He would not accept her pity and she was only momentarily confused enough to feel it.

After the first year, she wondered why they had not conceived. They had not prevented it and yet she had never been pregnant, not even a false alarm. She had insulted him one time, blaming him for their barrenness. He was quick to challenge her and for some odd reason, they did not fight over it. She had assumed she was young and at a fertile stage in her life, but he was definitely not to blame either. Neither of them wanted a child anyway.

However, even that seemed to change for Snape a little after a year from their wedding. He was still ready for her assaults, but he began to find some reason to be close to her, to show his sudden care for her. He made coffee more than a few times even though he did not drink it. He had even prepared her a bath.

"You seem tense lately. I'm assuming work has been tedious. I'm sure a bath will do you good."

It wasn't the bath, but the orgasm he gave her that released her tension. She had managed to sleep just fine that night, in their bedroom, in his arms. She had been suspicious but did not deny how pleasing it would be if they were both good to one another. They just couldn't be honest though.

The one time she had pleased him, she found herself wondering if she was in love with him. Why else would she have tried to build him up for release with her mouth? Surely she did not enjoy it? But she had gotten over it, confusing love with lust. She wondered if they could ever love each other, or themselves.

They had had little moments of happiness and comfort that she treasured deeply. They were the miracles she found herself cherishing. The timing had been right, the mood had been right, they were right. It was acceptance as they walked in the park side by side. It was agreement as they debated on the positive effects of a potion. It was appreciation of having someone to lean on. Treasures in the desert of their relationship. Hope in the midst of their desperation.

And now, she was a widow. No longer would she have to put up with his snarky behaviour, or his ridiculous demands. She was free of his presence. But Snape was not like that. He was too stubborn for things to end in her benefit. Unconsciously, he wanted to stay by her side for all of eternity. And Hermione found that she would not mind it. There was no one else who had seen her at her worse and put up with it. No one else who tried to ease her pain in his own broken way.

She was growing and he was growing with her. And in eight months, he would be born through their child. She would recognize his features; maybe his ebony eyes or his dark hair or his pale complexion. She would love him, honestly. She would let go of her anger and take in the swell of love and patience. She would be herself as she was meant to be while the child would grow adored, cherished and loved. There would be no regrets this time.

* * *

Love, Amy

SWeeT_LoST_SouL


End file.
